


Rude Boy

by elemie89



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Crack Treated Seriously, Dom! Dany, F/M, Inspired by Twitter, Oral Sex, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Spoilers after this tag, Sub! Ben Solo, Sugar Baby, Sugar Baby Ben Solo, Sugar Daddy, Sugar Daddy Dany, The Author Regrets Everything, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, endgame: Dany/ Daario, endgame: Rey/ Ben Solo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 04:43:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19143799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elemie89/pseuds/elemie89
Summary: Ben Solo is a down-on-his-luck owner of a start-up clean energy company. When he drunkenly downloads a sugar baby app, he begins communicating with a person named Khaleesi. Ben doesn't do this sugar baby thing, or does he?and/ orthe author stoking the fires of the Dany/ Kylo ship.





	Rude Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Poppi Willow (Poppi_Willow)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poppi_Willow/gifts).



> Guys, I don't even know what to say, this started as a prompt on Twitter from PoppiWillow and I just couldn't stop writing. I hope y'all enjoy this! The chapter count is a rough estimate at this point and subject to change.

He rolls over with a grunt. His head is pounding and now Ben Solo is regretting drinking all that whiskey last night. _Seemed like a good idea at the time,_ he muses. The sunlight is pouring through his modest Brooklyn one bedroom apartment. It’s making his head throb even more. He rubs his eyes and lets out another groan and flops his long arm over to his nightstand to grab his phone and his glasses.

 

He knows his first stop should be into the bathroom in search of some aspirin, but reaching for his phone first thing in the morning is just a habit now. Even the light from his cell phone is too much.

 

He squints through the pain in his head to look at the screen. The time on his phone reads just after nine in the morning. That isn’t what strikes fear in his heart. It’s a Saturday, so maybe a little sleep is well deserved. It’s the notifications on the phone screen that are making him want to pack up his entire existence and move to Europe under an assumed name.

 

His eyes widen as another notification comes in.

 

_No. No. No._

 

***

 

**The Day Before**

 

“Hey Solo, look at this article,” Ben’s co-worker, Poe Dameron, says with a chuckle.

 

Ben indulges him and accepts Poe’s phone. It’s an article detailing the finer points of the sugar baby/sugar daddy culture. Ben rolls his eyes. For some reason unknown to Ben, his business partner is _obsessed_ with this.

 

Ben finds the whole arrangement rather cheap and tawdry, but, hey, to each their own. He continues scanning the article to appease Poe. He finishes and slides the phone back to Poe.

 

“What’d you think?” Poe asks with a waggle of his eyebrows.

 

“I think you need to be more concerned about finishing that presentation for potential investors than showing me articles about sugar baby apps. We’re meeting them for lunch,” he replies flatly.

 

Ben’s not just trying to change the subject, he really needs his business partner to be focused on the task at hand. Together they run a clean energy consulting start up called Balance. Their mission is to advise businesses on how to shift toward a more sustainable environment. It’s a brand-new business venture. Ben took a leap of faith leaving the family business, politics, to follow his passion.

 

Ben surveys their tiny one room office. It’s located above a new fusion Indian restaurant a few blocks from Ben’s apartment. Poe knew a guy, because of course he did. Their rent is manageable for now.

 

The building, however, is a piece of work — the electricity is unreliable and Ben is almost one hundred percent certain there’s some sort of mold growing in their bathroom that could be used as biological warfare.

 

Ben knows they need to secure more funding if they’re going to make it past the first year and avoid being another statistic of idealistic businesses that fail in the first year.

 

A thought creeps into his brain as his six year-old laptop freezes yet again — _maybe I should get a sugar momma just to get a new laptop and get us out of this office_ . His brain spirals further as the computer refuses to work — _wouldn’t be so bad, might have to provide some older widow with some_ **_companionship_ ** _. The new equipment_ **_might_ ** _be worth it._

 

He chuckles inwardly, _might even be able to get my student loans paid off._ He sighs again, despite coming from a wealthy family, he’d received no assistance when going off to college. That was just the price he paid for not wanting to go into politics.

 

PowerPoint finally loads on his ancient (by technology standards) laptop and he snaps himself out of his thoughts. _Get a grip,_ he pleads with himself, _Poe’s ridiculous for being obsessed with this and you’re out of your mind for entertaining it._ His mind should be on courting new investors rather than ways to make a quick buck. He takes a sip of his coffee and wills himself to focus on the task at hand.     

  


***

 

“Well that sucked,” Ben says as the exit their meeting five hours later.

 

Despite the fact that it’s about three in the afternoon and in the wake of their crushing defeat, Ben and Poe silently agreed in the elevator on the way down it’s time to call it a day.

 

Poe runs his hands through his curly hair, as he blows out a breath. “Yeah, kinda hard to pitch a company that’s trying to fight climate change when potential investors don’t even believe in it.”

 

Ben sighs. “You can say that again.”

 

Poe shoots him a sympathetic look. “Sorry, Solo. I know you were kind of counting on them.”

 

Ben nods. “We need a bigger office, newer computers, the list goes on, Poe.”

 

“I know,” Poe replies. He slaps Ben on the arm. “Cheer up, buddy, we’ll figure this out. In the meanwhile, let’s go get a drink.”  

 

“Meh, I think I’ll skip that drink,” he replies with a half-hearted smile.

 

Poe says his goodbyes and heads in the direction of their favorite bar. Ben pulls out his phone and checks his e-mail. He doesn’t even bother to look past the first e-mail – a reminder from his student loan company that his payment is due – when he calls after Poe.

 

“On second thought, Poe. I’ll think I’ll come with”

 

***

 

He rubs his forehead. He can’t actually believe he downloaded “Alliance” – the sugar baby app from the article Poe had shown him. He doesn’t have enough alcohol in his system to deal with this. No, wait, alcohol was how he arrived in this predicament. He drags in a deep breath. Coffee, he needs coffee. That will give him a bit of clarity on how to proceed.

 

His body is on autopilot as he hops out of bed and heads to his kitchen. The smell of coffee grounds perks him up somewhat as he scoops them into the coffee maker. As the nectar of the gods brews, he opens up the app to begin to assess what damage drunk Ben visited upon present Ben.

 

When he first woke up, Ben hadn’t thought the damage was that terrible. He silently hopes that the notifications he sees are just generic notification from the app. No such luck. Now that he’s had a chance to wake up, he sees it’s worse than he could have imagined.

 

Not only has Ben chosen the slightly confusing username “Kylo” (seriously, what the _hell_ is that name?), he’s been communicating with a potential sugar momma named “Khaleesi”. His brow furrows. Okay, he’s not the only one who’s chosen a ridiculous screen name.

 

He opens the messaging feature of the app, taps on his messages with Khaleesi, and scrolls up. Time to face the music. Ben gathers he started messaging Khaleesi last night around ten. _Great, lets just hope I didn’t make an unmitigated ass out of myself_ , he thinks continue to scroll.

 

**Khaleesi: Have you ever done this before?**

 

**Kylo: Fuck no, this really isn’t my scene.**

 

**Khaleesi: A sugar virgin, huh? That’s adorable**

 

_Okay, rather innocuous,_ Ben thinks, other than the fact that some fifty year-old widow thinks he’s adorable.

 

**Kylo: I normally don’t do this.**

 

**Khaleesi: You’re simply adorable, Kylo. Too bad. If you knew what I do, you’d head for the hills.**

 

**Kylo: Doesn’t matter to me**

 

**Khaleesi: What if I was acting CEO of a multi-million dollar company?**

 

**Kylo: Why does that fucking matter?**

 

Ben furrows his brow. Who exactly is he dealing with? The whole CEO thing is probably a test, he assumes. He scrolls down a bit more and reads. Thankfully he hasn’t embarrassed himself that much. Ben breathes a sigh of relief. It’s short lived though.

 

He sees a bubble with three dots at the bottom of his screen, indicating he has a message coming in.

 

**Khaleesi: I haven’t lost you, have I, Kylo? That would be a record, even for me.**

 

Ben pushes up his glasses and blows out a breath. How to respond to Khaleesi? It hits him after a few seconds. Honesty. Tell her the truth. He begins to type out his message.

 

**Kylo: I’m still here. This is going to sound crazy, but i was drunk off my ass when I downloaded this app last night. I was in a bad headspace about my financial situation. My start up company had a big presentation that flopped epically. Anyway, long story short...if you want to stop talking to me, I get it.**

 

Ben wants to throw his phone across the room rather than wait for a response.

 

_“_ Nice going drunk Ben,” he grumbles.

 

He pads over to his cabinet in search of some cereal when he hears the ding of the app from his cell phone. There’s no way Khaleesi has responded that fast, even if she did, it’s probably just to tell him “fuck you, Kylo, goodbye”.

 

He steels himself for the inevitable digital tongue lashing he’s about to endure as he heads over to his phone.

 

**Khaleesi: If i had a nickle for every time I've heard that ;-)**

 

Okay, no digital tongue lashing. This is good. Another ping. Another message.

 

**Khaleesi: You sound like you could use my help, Kylo**

 

**Kylo: And what do you get in return?**

 

**Khaleesi: Let me worry about that, sweet boy**

 

_Sweet boy._ Ben’s wearing a white undershirt, but it feels like his collar is too tight around his neck. Is this actually turning him on? No, he reasons, that’s just ridiculous.

 

Ben Solo doesn’t use sugar mommas. _Then why are you still talking to her?_ He rolls his eyes. No, he doesn’t do this.

 

He’s been in tighter fixes than this and can get himself out again. He doesn’t need a sugar momma. He doesn’t do this. Does he? Before he can stop himself, he continues typing.

 

**Kylo: So how does this work? Contract or something?**

 

He waits.

 

**Khaleesi: I’ll call you tonight using the app’s voice chat feature. Pick up by the second ring or don’t bother talking to me at all.**

  
_Well,_ Ben scoffs. _That’s that._

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/em_is_writing)


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